


Making Room

by ironspiderling



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Peter Parker, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, POV Tony Stark, Peter is 17, Protective Tony Stark, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Rape Aftermath, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironspiderling/pseuds/ironspiderling
Summary: Tony starts seeing signs that Peter's new boyfriend Quentin might be abusing him. He tries to walk the line between being protective and being intrusive, but when his suspicions end up being confirmed, Tony has no choice but to act.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 344





	Making Room

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't anything super graphic between Quentin and Peter.

Tony first noticed the bruises on Peter's wrists when the boy rolled up his sleeves in the lab. He silently observed Peter working on his project before mentioning anything. The longer he looked at the marks on Peter's skin, the more apparent it became that they were fingerprints. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that Peter had recently gotten a boyfriend.

“Where'd those come from?” Tony asked casually.

Peter looked up at Tony after a moment. “Where did what come from?”

Tony could tell that Peter knew exactly what he was talking about because he rolled down his sleeves nonchalantly.

“The marks on your wrists,” Tony explained.

“Oh,” Peter remarked. “I don’t know. It could’ve been gym class.”

“Right,” Tony replied. He didn’t buy it, but there was really nothing else he could say if Peter didn’t want to talk. Tony wondered if it was from sex—he’d had his fair share of bruises from that, but he knew Peter. The boy hadn’t blushed or stammered back his response as if he was embarrassed. He seemed indifferent. Maybe he was telling the truth.

\---

Tony didn’t see Peter for another week, and by the time the boy came back to the lab, the bruises were gone.

“So when do I get to meet the new boyfriend?” Tony wondered. “It’s been a month. In high school, a month is like one year.”

Peter smiled. “You want to meet him?”

“Sure, why not?” Tony wanted to learn more about the guy. He wanted to make sure Peter was safe.

“Okay,” Peter nodded, “I can bring him to the lab next time, if that’s okay. He doesn’t really get into science or anything, but he’s really smart. I’m sure he’d love to see what we do.”

“Great.” Tony flicked his wrist in a gesture of acquiescence. What was Peter doing with someone who didn’t ‘really get into science’? He tried to stow his jealousy and his skepticism. Smart? This guy was smart? Didn’t Peter know with whom he was currently occupying the room? “You really think he’s smart?” Tony couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed. “I mean, he’s not, you know, as smart as you or anything, but, yeah.”

That was good enough for Tony. “Okay, okay, calm down, Parker.”

Peter grinned and shook his head.

\---

Tony paced the lab for half an hour waiting for Peter to bring the guy, but he didn’t show up. Tony decided to call.

“Peter?”

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied. “Can you just hold on for a second?”

Tony heard the muffled noises of Peter covering the receiver, but he could still make out the boy’s voice. “It’s Mr. Stark. He probably wants to know why we’re not there. I told you he’d care if I didn’t call.”

Tony didn’t know what to make of that, so he decided to be angry.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked.

“Yeah.”

“Quentin is sick, so we can’t come today. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

“Are you all right?” Tony wondered.

“He’s fine,” Pete assured. “Uhm, I don’t think it’s anything serious, but, you know. I’m really sorry for not letting you know.”

“I asked how _you_ are,” Tony corrected.

Tony heard Quentin in the background. “Who cares, just get rid of him. Hang up.”

“Oh,” Peter answered distractedly. “I don’t know. I’ll see you next time, though. Sorry again.”

Tony glowered at his empty lab. _Yeah, he’s sick all right. Asshole. If I find out he’s keeping Peter away on purpose… _

\---

Tony half expected Peter to be a no-show again the following week, but the boy strolled in at the usual time, backpack in hand.

“What’s up, Mr. Stark?”

“Glad to have you back.”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Peter flickered his eyes to Tony. “I hope you’re not mad.”

“Not mad,” Tony confirmed.

Tony noticed how relieved Peter looked. Interesting.

“The boyfriend isn’t coming?” Tony added. He knew the dick’s name was Quentin, but he wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of admitting he remembered it.

“Uhm, no I don’t think so.” Peter shifted in his seat. “Maybe another time.”

“Sure,” Tony said easily.

Maybe it was for the best. If Quentin came into his territory, there was no telling what he would do. Especially since he highly suspected that Quentin was up to no good. The bruises could be explained away as something kinky, and Peter could’ve just missed their lab session to get busy with his boyfriend, but that could be a sign that Quentin was purposely distancing Peter from his loved ones. Tony couldn’t be positive that Quentin had malicious intent, but he was suspicious, and that was enough to make him angry. He had promised Peter he wouldn’t do a background check when the boy had first told him about the relationship, but he was very close to breaking the promise. Violating Peter’s privacy would be worth it if it meant protecting him.

\---

Tony didn’t notice anything else fishy going on for the next couple weeks, and he figured he had just been paranoid. Peter was his normally chatty self. No bruises, no sad faces. Tony was glad everything was okay, but he was still waiting for the prick to visit the lab so he could assess him in person. If Quentin checked out, then Tony would be content to consider the case closed, but until he was absolutely certain that Peter was with a good guy, Tony wasn’t letting his guard down.

\---

Peter walked into the lab and said his usual, “Hey Mr. Stark”. Tony greeted him back without lifting his head, but then he remembered he was supposed to be keeping an eye out, so he watched the boy carefully out of the corner of his eye. Tony could immediately tell that Peter wasn’t walking right. Peter sat down, grimacing. Tony frowned, scrutinizing Peter’s expression.

“What happened?” Tony got up off his stool and walked over to where Peter was.

“N-nothing,” Peter shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Did that asshole do this to you?” Tony inclined his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s none of your business,” Peter snapped.

Tony had never seen Peter look so angry. He had seen him annoyed and hurt, but never this furious.

Peter rose from the stool. “Just back off.”

Tony stepped back with his hands up. “If he’s hurting you, you have to tell me, Pete.”

“He’s not _hurting _me. He’s _fucking _me,” Peter grabbed his backpack off the floor. “I’m not a kid, and I can have sex with my boyfriend without you policing me every five minutes.”

Tony had to count to ten. He reminded himself that Peter wasn’t attacking him for the sake of it. He was defensive, and most likely in denial. His first instinct was to yell back at Peter for being so vulgar, but he knew that was the wrong way to go.

“If that’s all it is,” Tony breathed, “I’m happy to let it go. Hell, I’ll give you a box of condoms if it means you’re being careful. God knows I was younger than 17 when I started—point is, Peter…I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah, what do you know?” Peter said less venomously. His eyes flickered down to the floor and then back up to Tony. He looked guilty.

“If you were happy with what was going on, I think you wouldn’t be so defensive and angry. It’s one thing to be walking funny for a few hours, kid, maybe you like it rough. Fuck, I don’t know. But I know you just came from school, so if you’re walking funny, that’s from yesterday, and that’s not normal.”

Peter’s face fell for a moment, and then his angry expression was back.

Tony wanted to punch something. He knew what he’d seen on Peter’s face—confusion. So the kid must not have realized…rough sex wasn’t supposed to make you limp.

Peter sighed, “Seriously, Mr. Stark. I promise you. It’s nothing. Quentin is just…yeah he’s kind of rough, but I’m just going to tell him, and it will be fine. He’ll listen.”

“Peter, I think you’re making a mistake.”

“Just trust me. For once, please. Just…please,” Peter begged. “I swear I’ll show you that Quentin isn’t what you think. You’ll get to meet him, and it will be fine.”

“I trust you. I don’t trust him. I won’t like him,” Tony said definitively. “Anyone that could be so careless with you—” Tony stopped himself from saying any more. “He disgusts me.”

\---

Tony hadn’t seen Peter since he stormed off after their conversation. Tony was sorry, but he wasn’t sorry. Peter needed to hear it straight. Quentin was trash, and Tony wasn’t going to change his mind. Tony called Peter when he missed their usual lab time. No answer.

Tony deliberated. He could leave it alone and respect Peter’s wishes, or he could persist. Maybe Peter would be mad at him, but maybe not. One unanswered phone call didn’t mean anything. Peter could still be pissed about their last interaction, but that was unlike him—they’d gotten in little tiffs before and Peter always came back. This just felt different. He decided to call May.

“Hi, Tony,” May greeted cheerfully.

Tony glowered. How could she sound so happy when her nephew was probably off somewhere being abused?

“Hi,” Tony kept his voice calm. “Where’s Peter?”

“Oh,” May said. “He’s off with Quentin. You know about Quentin, right?”

“Of course,” Tony said through his teeth. “I just though Peter was coming by the lab tonight. We always meet on Fridays.”

“Right, right. Uhm, wow I can’t believe he didn’t say anything to you…he never misses lab. He looks forward to it all week.”

“So he’s with Quentin for sure?” Tony pressed.

“Yeah, Tony. I’m so sorry about Peter’s manners. I’ll have a talk with him when he gets home.”

“It’s fine. New boyfriend…completely understandable.”

“I don’t know,” May began. “He adores you. I don’t think he’d ever skip lab for a date.”

“He’s done it before,” Tony admitted. He was glad May was being so candid because he thought the same thing. Peter had never skipped and never wanted to skip. The only times he had were because of Quentin, evidently. Tony had had enough. He was going rogue.

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” May offered.

“Sure, yeah. Thanks.”

“Friday, we’re going in,” Tony said aloud to his empty lap. “I don’t know the guy’s last name. I need it to find his address. Access Peter’s phone. Scan everything.”

“Yes, boss.”

Tony took it as a good sign that Friday didn’t give him any lip about it either.

“Last name is Beck,” Friday announced after ten seconds. “Address is in Queens. 20 Ingram Street. I’ve sent the route to the R8’s GPS.”

Tony pulled up in front of the house and cut the engine. He didn’t know what he would find if he just busted down the door and waltzed in. He didn’t even know if Quentin and Peter were in there, or if they’d gone out on a legitimate date. He decided to give Peter’s cell another try.

His heart leapt into his throat when he answered.

“Peter?” Tony questioned.

“No, it’s not.”

“Where’s Peter, put him on the phone,” Tony demanded.

“He’s not able to come to the phone right now,” Quentin responded coolly.

“Why?” Tony bit. “Put him on the phone now.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you, and frankly it’s creepy that you’re so obsessed with him. He told me about your little conversation.”

Tony’s blood was boiling. “Did you hurt him?”

“Of course not, I’m not the monster you think I am,” Quentin said. “I would never hurt him.”

Tony frowned. “Then put him on the goddamn phone.”

“Is that Tony?”

Tony’s ears perked up when he heard Peter’s voice. He tried to detect any pain in it.

Quentin ignored the question. “See you around, Tony. Peter will call you when he feels like it.”

The line disconnected, but Tony wasn’t that easily deterred. “Friday, open the line back up. I wanna hear what’s going on in there.”

Friday obeyed. Tony listened.

_“I wanna talk to Tony,” Peter cried. “Please, let me call him back now. I swear I won’t say anything. Please, Quentin.”_

_Quentin laughed. “Why, you stupid slut? I’m not enough for you?” He mocked Peter, then. “Ohhh, Mr. Stark this, Tony that. I wanna be just like you when I grow up. Fawning over him like a pathetic little bitch. Give me a break.”_

_“I just wanna talk to him,” Peter said just loud enough for Tony to catch it._

Tony could hear the tears in Peter’s voice, and that was enough to get him moving. He heard muffled movements, and then Quentin’s voice_. “I’m going to have to fuck you harder then, pretty boy. I’ll make you forget him, don’t worry.”_

Tony opened the door with no issue thanks to the laser in his watch. He followed the sound of Peter whimpering and walked right into the bedroom. Peter was faced down on the bed, and Quentin was on top of him, pinning him down. Tony wanted to rip his dick off.

“Please don’t,” Peter begged, struggling against the much larger body on top of him.

Tony walked forward and grabbed the guy by his hair, throwing him back with all the force he could. Now that he was seeing Quentin in person, he noticed that he was pretty stacked. No wonder Peter couldn’t fight—he was probably lighter than Quentin by more than fifty pounds.

Peter scrambled away as soon as Quentin was off him. Tony tracked his movements. All he could see was that the boy’s skin was red. More fingerprints too.

“Get behind me, Pete,” Tony instructed. “You okay?”

Peter didn’t answer. He snatched random clothes off the floor and did as he was told and got behind Tony.

Quentin was standing by the bed, chest heaving.

Tony didn’t feel uncomfortable despite Quentin being completely naked. He just stared at the man in disgust.

“Tony Stark in the flesh.” Quentin grinned. “Man, you’re really nosy.”

Tony didn’t really get a good look at Peter, and he didn’t want to violate him even further, but he wasn’t sure if he was too late. Quentin hadn’t been inside of him when he arrived, but that didn’t mean the assault hadn’t already happened. Peter had sounded distraught on the phone. Tony didn’t want to leave Quentin unharmed if he was guilty. He had to know.

“Peter, did he rape you?” Tony stared at Beck while he waited for Peter to answer.

Tony glanced back to Peter who was now in boxers and a t-shirt. The pants weren’t easily accessible, then.

“Y-yes,” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, _shut up_,” Quentin rolled his eyes. “I did not. Liar. You wanted it, and you know it.”

“No I didn’t. You know I didn’t,” Peter said.

“Now that _Mr. Stark_ is here, you’re suddenly a tough guy? Whatever.” Quentin shook his head. “Five minutes ago, you were begging for it.”

Tony didn’t consider his next move carefully, he just advanced. He clocked Quentin in his face, sending him backward and onto the ground. “You disgusting fuck,” Tony muttered. He stepped on Quentin’s exposed groin, watching with satisfaction when his dick turned purple.

“Stop it, stop it,” Quentin cried. “I didn’t rape anyone. He’s lying. I swear. He wanted it.”

Tony dug his shoe into Quentin’s skin harder and then stepped back.

“Then why am I bleeding?” Peter asked, moving past Tony and kicking Quentin in the hip.

Tony wanted to kill him. “Don’t worry, Pete. Friday called the police before I even walked in the door. He wasn’t worried about the police seeing the evidence of his laser cutter, either. He would say that Peter answered the phone when he called, and that the boy had begged for him to come in and help. He had more than enough justification, and Quentin would be toast.

Quentin’s cocky demeanour finally let up after he realized that Tony wasn’t fucking around.

“You called the cops? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Quentin got up, cupping his dick. “I’m pressing charges for assault. You can’t prove jack shit, but I can show them what you did.”

Tony walked away, placing a hand on Peter’s back to guide him. “We’re waiting outside. I don’t even want you in the same room as him,” Tony said. “You don’t have to look at him ever again.”

The police arrived just as they exited the house. They collected a limping Quentin and threw him in the back of the cruiser. Tony knew they weren’t out of the woods yet. Peter would have to go to the station and endure scrutiny, and May would have to be called. Tony had never felt worse than he did watching Peter struggle to get into his car. He helped the boy the best he could, but he was also hesitant to touch him. They drove to the station to meet with the police in silence.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” Tony said when he parked the car. “I should’ve stopped it sooner. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“You tried to tell me,” Peter said, “but I didn’t listen.”

Tony helped him out of the car and into the station. He called May and told her what was happening. It was the worst phone call he’d ever had to make in his life.

Tony knew that it wasn’t easy to put someone away for rape, and it wasn’t easy to put them away for long, either, but his friends in high places came in handy for once. The evidence was substantial as well. Tony hadn’t been physically present for the examination, but May had relayed the details. Tony felt helpless watching Peter suffer the aftermath of Quentin’s actions. He wished he could do more, and he wished he had done more. _If I’d just gotten there sooner…I could’ve stopped it._

\---

Tony didn’t know where he and Peter stood after that Friday. He had waited at the police station with May, but then she and Peter had left—May had hugged him, but Peter had just glanced at him with a hollow expression before following his aunt out the door. Tony wanted to scream. He wanted to be closer to Peter more than ever, but he knew that Peter would want his space. He didn’t know what would be best for the boy—staying away or making an effort to be present. He decided to make the first move. He texted Peter on Saturday.

Tony: Hey. I don’t really expect an answer, but I want you to know you can reach out when you’re ready. You’re welcome at the penthouse anytime. Lab or otherwise.

Peter didn’t answer, and that was okay with Tony, but he still needed to know that Peter was okay. He got his updates through May_. He stayed home from school today or He seemed better today or Today wasn’t good._ And of course, the frequent _Thank you for everything you did I won’t forget it._

Tony didn’t expect Peter to come into his lab that week, or even for the rest of that month, but there the boy was Friday afternoon like clockwork. Backpack, nerdy t-shirt, and all.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony said. Just seeing the boy made him feel twenty pounds lighter. God, that boy deserved so much better than what he’d gotten.

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter responded.

Tony was reminded of how Peter had asked for him on the phone that day. How Peter had called him Tony. He wondered what it meant.

Tony didn’t know if he should act normal or if he should broach the subject. He tried to think about what he would want and decided it was best to ignore it. Peter was here for normalcy, not a nightmarish therapy session.

“So, I have a list for you,” Tony explained. “I need you to recalibrate Dum-E because he is seriously off his rocker lately. Then if you get that done, I need you to see what the heck is going on with the holotable.” Tony gestured to the clear surface on his right. “It’s all glitchy.” He moved a projection from his watch to the table, and the image went staticky before blinking in and out. “It’s atrocious.”

Peter smiled. “Okay.”

“Good. You’ll have your work cut out for you with that one, though.” Tony pointed to Dum-E.

“Aww, be nice to him.” Peter walked over and patted the machine. “He’s sensitive.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony waved. “Bleeding hearts, and all that.” He turned back to his own workstation and tried to make sense of the blueprints he’d drawn up for the remodel he was considering for the penthouse.

They worked for a few hours, Peter occasionally coming over to ask for help with programming since it wasn’t his strong suit. Tony stopped them when it was past 8. “You hungry, kid? I forgot that humans need to eat.”

“Who are you calling human?” Peter looked around the room.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza,” Peter agreed.

“Do you feel like watching a movie?” Tony suggested.

“Uhm, sure. Why not?” Peter said.

\---

Tony kept a cushion between him and Peter while they ate on the couch. The last thing he needed was to make Peter uncomfortable by getting too close. They had settled on the new Star Wars movie, but Tony’s heart wasn’t really in it. He was more interested in making sure Peter was doing okay. The boy demolished over half the pizza, so that was probably a good sign, and he seemed to be enjoying the movie.

Tony was starting to feel antsy, thinking about what Quentin had done. What he’d taken away from and what he’d brought to Tony’s relationship with Peter. Tony resented having to be scared of what to say and not say around Peter. He hated that Peter probably felt awkward around him now. And not just awkwardness that stemmed from Peter being naked in front of him, but a deeper embarrassment and shame from being seen in such a vulnerable position, and also from being wrong about Quentin after defending him. Tony couldn’t even imagine what was going through the kid’s brain.

Tony was so wrapped up in his mental spiral that he missed Peter watching him.

Tony knew his jaw was tense. He ground his teeth. Flexed his fingers. _That fucking useless asshole. _

“It’s okay,” Peter said.

“Hmm?” Tony wrenched his head away from the empty space he was currently staring at.

Peter moved closer. He put a hand on Tony’s knee for a brief moment before removing it. “Don’t feel bad.”

Tony let his air out all at once. “Not a chance.”

“I’m serious, Tony,” Peter said. “I don’t want you to feel bad for something that was my fault.”

Tony blinked. “What did you say?”

Peter bit his lip and looked away. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine for not listening to you sooner. You were right the whole time.”

“Don’t you dare,” Tony disagreed. “I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t do anything until it was too late. That’s my fault. Sorry, I was here first. Finder’s Keepers.”

Peter looked at his lap. “I’m sorry, Tony. I’m so sorry. For everything.” His eyes were glassy.

Tony sighed. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Ever.”

“I was so mean to you,” Peter’s voice wavered. “You were just trying to help, and I was…Ugh.” Peter wiped at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Tony soothed. “It’s okay.” Tony was not prepared for Peter’s watery eyes to turn into full blown sobs.

Peter cried openly, his entire body shaking. “I-I’m…I don’t know why—” Peter’s words wouldn’t come out properly.

Tony took the opportunity to envelope Peter in a hug. “Let it out, kid. Don’t hold back…just, uhm, cry it out.”

Peter clung to Tony with every ounce of strength he had, and Tony returned the gesture. Tony could feel his shirt soaking through with Peter’s tears, but he didn’t mind. He wished he could somehow absorb the pain from the kid, so he wouldn’t have to feel it.

“T-Tony,” Peter tried. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tony muttered, leaning his cheek on Peter’s head.

“You came just in time, you know.”

Tony didn’t answer. Peter could let him off the hook all he wanted, but he would keep putting himself back on it. He had been too late, and that was all Tony could think. Maybe he had saved Peter from one rape, but he could’ve done more and sooner.

Eventually Peter’s sobbing subsided, and his grip on Tony loosened. He stayed where he was, though, arms wrapped around Tony, and head against the man’s chest.

Tony ran a hand up and down Peter’s back while he errantly watched the title menu of the DVD repeating.

“Can I stay over?” Peter asked quietly. “Please?”

“You wanna stay over?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay. I’m sorry. I just…May is really—you know.”

Tony could imagine. “I don’t think you’ll find it much better here, to be honest.”

“You at least pretend not to be crazy with worry,” Peter admitted with a sheepish smile.

“God, I should’ve been an actor,” Tony breathed. “Gotta say, I’m really crazy. Like certifiable. I could’ve killed him for even looking at you wrong.” Tony shook his head. “I wanted to.”

“I know.”

Tony sighed. “Let’s go to bed before we stay up all night. We’ll sleep it off.”

“Okay,” Peter said, getting off the couch limberly. Tony envied the boy’s spryness. He was a bit stiff after being in the same position so long.

Tony headed to his room, looking forward to a good night’s sleep. He always slept better on the nights Peter slept over. Something about the kid’s presence relaxed him. Peter had even chosen his own guest room that Tony had declared Peter’s permanent room. It was comforting not to be completely alone.

Tony flicked on his bedroom light and headed to the master bath to brush his teeth. He was surprised to see that Peter was following him closely. “What’s up?” Tony asked. “Did you need something?”

“Uhm, oh,” Peter scratched his head. “I thought I could—never mind. Sorry. That’s stupid.”

Tony frowned in confusion, “You want to share?”

“Can we?” Peter asked, cheeks flushing red. “Please?”

“Y-yeah. Course,” Tony shrugged. “I’m sure there’s room for one more.” He gestured to his king-size mattress which was obviously enough for two.

“Great.” Peter smiled. He walked into Tony’s closet and looked around. “Where do you keep your sleep shirts?”

Tony pretended not to be shocked at Peter’s bold behaviour. He pointed to a drawer.

Peter took out a Black Sabbath t-shirt, not hesitating to strip out of his NASA one right in front of Tony.

Tony caught himself staring. _Way to be appropriate. _He left to continue his business in the bathroom. He wasn’t versed at all with dealing with assault victims, so he had no idea if what Peter was doing was normal. Wanting to share a bed and just openly changing in front of him didn’t seem normal. Tony had no idea. He was definitely going to have to google it.

He exited the bathroom and got into his bed, unsure of where Peter had gone. The boy was no longer in the room. He waited for a few minutes to see what was going on, and then Peter came back into the room with two bottles of water. He put one on Tony’s bedside table.

“In case you get thirsty in the night,” Peter explained.

“Right.” Tony nodded. “Thanks.”

“Mmhm,” Peter said, throwing back the covers and getting under them. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Anytime, kid,” Tony said honestly. He pressed a button on his watch and the lights went out. He really didn’t know what was going to happen. If he had been asked a few weeks ago, Peter snuggling up to him wouldn’t have been on the list of predictions. Now that he’d seen Peter’s spunky attitude, and now that he’d heard it firsthand when the boy had basically bragged about getting fucked, Tony was considering it a possibility.

Tony didn’t have to wait long. It was only a few minutes before Peter moved to his side of the bed. He didn’t reach out right away, but Tony could tell that Peter was working up to it.

“Are you still awake?” Peter asked.

“We’ve only been in bed for five minutes, so yes,” Tony answered.

“Right,” Peter said.

Tony rolled his eyes in the dark. What was Peter up to?

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered.

“Night, kid,” Tony said. Peter was back to flip flopping between Tony and Mr. Stark. Tony really wanted to know why he couldn’t stick with one.

Peter started with a brush of Tony’s bicep, and then it was his leg, and then Peter just plastered himself against Tony, burrowing in like he was trying to get under Tony’s skin.

Tony didn’t say anything and neither did Peter. Tony just moved his arm to accommodate Peter’s body against his, and then they fell asleep. Tony wasn’t sure what Peter’s motivation was—maybe he just wanted closeness without intimacy because he hadn’t been able to have that before. Maybe the kid just liked cuddling and felt like they could do that now. Tony didn’t examine the kid’s motivations any closer than that, though because Peter’s arm thrown across his chest, and the boy’s face practically jammed in his armpit felt like home.

Tony slept the best he had in probably years, but he still woke before dawn. He rolled out of bed carefully, mourning the loss of warmth and Peter. He took a second to appreciate Peter’s soft and peaceful expression before he left the bedroom and made his way to the lab. Tony was halfway through his first coffee when he realized he was completely fucked.

\---

The pattern continued for two months; Peter would come over every Friday like he had for the past two years. Except now he slept over when the night came to a close, and yeah, that had happened a few times before, but he had always stayed in his own room. Tony had a lot of sleep shirts, but when Peter took them home every week with a promise to wash and return them and failed to do so, Tony was forced to buy more.

“What is this?” Peter stepped out of the closet and back into the bedroom where Tony was waiting.

“What’s what?” Tony asked, glancing up to see Peter standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but boxers holding up a Blue Oyster Cult shirt. It was one of the new ones.

Every time Tony let this carry on, he hated himself even more. Was this really good for Peter? Sharing a bed with another grown man? Changing in front of him? When he’d searched Quentin’s identity, he had discovered that the man was nearly 30 and not 18 like he’d thought. when Peter had first told him he had a boyfriend. Tony was nearly 50. Twenty years older than that rapist asshole. Did that make him twenty times worse?

Peter frowned and went back into the closet and came out wearing a button-up shirt.

It was Tony’s turn to ask. “What the hell is that?”

“A shirt,” Peter explained.

“What was wrong with the other one? I didn’t know you had to dress up to go to sleep.”

“I didn’t like that one,” Peter said.

“It’s a shirt,” Tony argued. “What could possibly be better about this one?” He reached over to Peter and tugged at the collar.

“It’s not brand new.”

“What—” Tony stopped himself. How had Peter known that those shirts were new? He’d taken the tags off. Did the boy have some inventory of his closet that he didn’t know about? Tony looked at Peter’s blushing expression. He took in how loose the collar was around Peter’s neck and how the sleeves were too long. _Fuck, why are you doing this to me, Pete?_

“Right,” Tony said. “Fine, you can wear whatever you want.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter beamed. He pulled up the covers and scooted over to Tony like he had been doing it forever.

Tony welcomed the boy into his arms just like he had been. Usually Peter at least waited until the lights were off, but this time he didn’t. Tony got to admire how it looked to have Peter in his arms. He got to see the blissful expression on Peter’s face. How the boy’s eyelids fluttered when Tony petted his hair. Tony wondered if it could really be wrong if Peter looked so happy. It made him angry. _Quentin had this. He could’ve kept Peter forever. What would it be like if he was mine?_

Tony pulled Peter closer, and Peter willingly shifted, eyes closed all the while. No fear. Tony shut the light, mind spinning. He didn’t know if Peter was his, but he was more than happy to be Peter’s for as long as the boy wanted him. Right now, Peter didn’t seem to want him romantically, and that was fine. Tony could deal with just getting to hold Peter close if it could offer the boy some semblance of love and security.

\---

The next time Peter slept over, he didn’t bother trying any t-shirts on. He grabbed another dress shirt. Tony wondered if Peter had enough closet space in his and May’s apartment to house all the clothes he’d confiscated. The thought led Tony to consider what it would be like to fit Peter into the remodel he had been planning. Was that too much? He could build a master closet in his bedroom big enough for two. The extra space would come from Peter’s abandoned guest room. It would be nothing to rearrange some things. Tony got excited to give those blueprints another look-through. _But how long is this going to last?_

\--

“Do you want me to buy you different shirts?” Tony asked. It was strange to be discussing this not in the bedroom. Usually they worked in the lab until they got tired, ordered food, watched a movie, and went to bed. It was never a question if Peter was going to stay over anymore, he just did. Tony just anticipated it now and made sure his evenings were free. They never talked about the fact that Peter was staying over.

“Hmm?” Peter asked distractedly.

“I don’t have any shirts left except the ones you won’t wear,” Tony explained.

“Oh,” Peter blushed crimson. “I’m sorry, Tony. I can bring the old ones back. I just keep forgetting because I come right after school, and I sort of have a lot of them…it’s a lot to bring in a backpack.”

“I didn’t say I wanted them back,” Tony said. “I want to know if you need anything…I’m going shopping this weekend.”

“You don’t have to do that, it’s okay. It’s my fault you don’t have any shirts left…uhm. Yeah. That’s okay.”

That night, Tony watched Peter go through the t-shirt drawer again. He picked up the Blue Oyster Cult one that he had nixed last time. He inspected it for a moment and then decided to put it on. Tony was no idiot, but he was utterly lost. What kind of game was Peter playing? Tony considered it while he got dressed for bed. He slipped on pajama pants and opted to go shirtless since he needed to conserve the shirts for Peter, apparently. The kid was confusing.

Peter had the covers up to his chin by the time Tony walked in. Peter had already put a bottle of water next to Tony’s bedside. Tony thought he might die if the boy ever stopped doing that for him. Tony didn’t think anything of his current state until he caught Peter staring. He had the satisfaction of knowing Peter liked what he saw, but the dissatisfaction of not being able to do anything about it.

Peter stretched deeply before taking his usual spot at Tony’s side.

Everything felt different shirtless. Peter’s breath was hitting his skin directly. Tony could feel the softness of Peter’s hair ghosting across his skin. _Fuck, this was a bad idea._

_\--_

Tony couldn’t help himself from continuing the habit. The next time Peter slept over, he skipped the shirt. He knew being shirtless wasn’t sexual, but he was so attracted to Peter that everything felt sexual. It was impossible to keep his mind pure, but somehow, he managed.

Tony felt the press of Peter’s hand across his chest, skin on skin. If it was possible, Peter was holding on even tighter._ Not today, Pete. I can’t handle this today._

It was all fine until Peter moved his hand and his fingers caught on Tony’s nipple. It had happened before, but always accidentally and through a shirt. This time, Peter moved his hand again, and Tony realized it was deliberate. He held his breath, praying that Peter would do it again, praying that he wouldn’t do it again.

Peter started circling the spot with his fingers as casually as if he was making doodles on a notepad while he was talking on the phone. Tony had no fucking clue how to respond. He didn’t say a word, just kept letting Peter do what he was doing. Maybe it wasn’t purposeful. Sometimes Tony found himself drawing circles around his knee. It was something he did while he was thinking. Everyone had mindless habits. That theory went out the window when Peter scraped his nail across the skin.

“Jesus,” Tony hissed.

“Oh, sorry,” Peter whispered. “I—did that hurt? I’m sorry.”

“No, it didn’t hurt,” Tony said. “It’s…good.”

“Oh,” Peter said, body relaxing once again.

The hand was back.

_You’re going to kill me, Parker. I swear to God. Who sent you to do this?_

Tony was getting hard. He had always been partial to a little nipple treatment. Under Peter’s touch it was getting unbearably sensitive. Tony tried not to squirm.

“Peter, you should stop,” Tony said.

“Why?”

“Because…it feels good,” Tony said.

Peter turned his face into Tony’s chest and pressed his lips against the skin. He chased the gesture with a lick of Tony’s opposite nipple.

“Fuck,” Tony grunted. “Peter, stop. We can’t—”

Peter shifted, straddling Tony with his knees on either side of the man’s chest. He backed his ass up until it was pressing against Tony’s erection.

“Come on, you don’t want this,” Tony resisted. “You don’t really want me.”

“Of course, I do,” Peter stilled. “I—I always have.”

“What?” Tony asked stupidly. He brought his hands to Peters hips like a moron. He knew it would only encourage him. Tony decided it was a good time to put the lights back on. It might have a sobering effect on the kid.

Tony wished it had a sobering effect on him. Now he could see Peter in full light, practically glowing with excitement. His cheeks were bright red as usual, his hair somehow messy even though all Tony had done was run his fingers through it. He was hard in his boxers too.

“Yeah,” Peter said quietly. “I’m sorry Mr. Stark. Tony. I wasn’t going to—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You just make me so _crazy._”

Tony knew exactly what Peter was talking about.

“You smell so good,” Peter squeaked. “And you’re not wearing a shirt…it’s just. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—” He made to get off Tony, but Tony hardened his grip on Peter’s hips to bring him back down.

“You don’t have to move just yet,” Tony said, looking up at Peter who was using his body as a seat. _What is wrong with you, Tony. Jesus Christ._

Peter stayed where he was, but he leaned forward, now lying on Tony chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck. “I just like being close to you.”

“Me too,” Tony admitted. “We can do that. We don’t have to have sex for that.”

Peter pouted. “But I want that too.”

“Peter, I’m almost 50 years old.”

“I don’t care about that.” Peter tightened his hold on Tony and pressed his lips to the man’s neck.

“I care,” Tony admitted. “I don’t want to be another piece of shit taking advantage of you. I refuse to hurt you.”

“You’re not,” Peter insisted, lifting himself back up to look at Tony’s face. “I swear you’re not. I know you would never hurt me. Ever. And I would never hurt you—not that I really could—but, Tony, please. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Tony closed his eyes.

“I never thought I could have you. Not in a million years,” Peter admitted. “That’s why—”

Tony’s eyes flashed open. “Why what.” Oh no. He didn’t like where this was going. _Please don’t say that, Peter. I can’t take it._

“I’m sorry,” Peter chewed on his lip. “I—Quentin—He looked like you, sort of, and I never thought I could have you. So I just—I pretended to have you? I’m sorry, Tony.”

“So it is my fault,” Tony said.

“No,” Peter said. “No. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. I just wanted you to know the truth. To prove what I’m saying. I’ve wanted you forever. I knew you would never do anything to hurt me, so I knew it wasn’t on the table. It was such a mistake. I should’ve just told you then, and that’s _my _fault.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tony took his hands off Peter. “I’ve been letting this carry on for months because I’m so fucking selfish. I can’t stay away from you, but I should, Peter. Don’t you understand?”

Peter climbed off Tony and sat cross-legged beside him. Tony sat up and put his head in his hands. “I could’ve done so many things differently. I could’ve prevented—”

“I should’ve told you the truth sooner,” Peter said. “It’s not on you, and it’s—it’s not on me, either, Tony. Just because I dated someone older because I couldn’t have you…he didn’t have to treat me like that. It’s his fault, not ours.”

Tony pressed his hands into his eyes. Peter sat up on his knees and then stood up fully on the bed. He walked carefully behind Tony so he could sit behind the man and straddle him. He rubbed Tony’s back. “The first few times…before he was mean,” Peter whispered, “I closed my eyes and pretended it was you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Tony sighed.

“Now I know that I was being ridiculous,” Peter said. “I bet you’re a thousand times better at _everything. _He could never pass for you.”

“Don’t,” Tony said half-heartedly. He didn’t want to hear about how he compared to a rapist. “The bar is low on that one.”

“That’s true.” Peter stopped rubbing Tony’s back and just wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and leaned his body against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Where does that leave us, Pete?” Tony wondered. “I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“I don’t know,” Peter said.

“What would your aunt say?”

Peter smiled into Tony’s back. “She’d probably be pissed, but she knows how much you care about me. How could she be against it?”

“Maybe because I’m old enough to be your father twice over.”

“Barely,” Peter argued. “You would’ve had to be a teen father for that math to work.”

“Fine, then once over,” Tony allowed. “But seriously. May won’t be happy.”

“But I’ll be. You’ll be,” Peter replied. “I would be…grossly happy. It would probably be sickening.”

Tony laughed, “Until you realize that I’m not all I’m cracked up to be. Or until you’re celebrating my 60th birthday and you haven’t broken 30. Until you’re at my funeral—”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Peter said. “Don’t say that.”

Tony shut up. Maybe he’d underestimated Peter—they weren’t even official, and he was already putting him in his place. Maybe Peter could handle him just fine.

“You’re more than you’re cracked up to be,” Peter continued. “I’ve known you for four years, been spending every Friday with you for three, and I haven’t seen anything I didn’t like. Talking about you dying is probably the only thing you’ve ever done that I’ve hated.”

“Don’t say that to me,” Tony turned to try and face Peter. “If that’s the bar, then you’re going to be putting up with a lot.”

Peter giggled. “You’re going to have to put up with _me._ I think I get the sweeter end of the deal.”

Tony shifted even further so he could fully face the boy. “So you’re interested in being my boyfriend? Or are you just sweet talking to get me into the sack.”

Peter’s face flamed. “I—Whatever you want. If you just want to do _that._ I can do that…”

Tony shook his head. “If I only wanted that we would’ve already been doing it.”

Peter nodded.

“If you’re going to be my…significant other,” Tony said, “we’re going to have to talk about you calling me Tony because the way you bounce back and forth between that and ‘Mr. Stark’ gives me whiplash.”

“I—”

“And, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on with you and my shirts because it’s driving me nuts. It’s all very mysterious.”

Peter grinned. “Well, um…”

Tony inclined his head, “What?”

“Well the Tony thing…The you thing…I just. I sort of got used to saying Mr. Stark because I’ve said it for so long, and it’s hot? Maybe? I don’t know…It takes me back to when I jerked off like seven times a day and said it like that.” Peter cringed at himself. “And it’s not like now is any better…it’s just more like four times a day, and I say Tony sometimes because it feels more _romantic_ and less kinky? It all depends on the mood and—”

“Fuck, Peter,” Tony’s eyes widened. “You’re a secret freak, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “Maybe…you’re just really attractive. Like _really _attractive. It’s hard to concentrate, and the shirts is an easy one. The new ones didn’t smell like you yet, and you must’ve worn them because now they do.”

Tony grinned. “Get over here.” Fuck it. He couldn’t hold back anymore, not with Peter being so forthcoming. He had always thought that Peter harboured some feelings for him—maybe a crush—but he hadn’t realized how bad Peter had it for him. It would have been off-putting from anyone else, but Tony couldn’t judge the kid since he returned the sentiment. That wouldn’t be fair.

Peter practically flew at him, slamming their mouths together hard enough that Tony bit his lip. He didn’t mention it though. He had a lapful of Peter, and the boy was relentless. He sucked Tony’s tongue out of his mouth before Tony could even register what was happening. He hadn’t made out that eagerly since his twenties. _What the fuck have I been missing?_

Peter was already moaning, and Tony hadn’t even gotten close to touching his dick. Tony was so turned on just from watching Peter be turned on. “You’re a vision, you know that, Pete?” Tony detached himself from Peter’s mouth. “You’re beautiful.” Tony meant it too. Seeing Peter in action in just a baggy band t-shirt and boxers was making Tony desperate. He didn’t like to throw around words like ‘beautiful’ because it sounded cheesy, but Peter brought it out of him.

Tony flipped them around and pinned Peter to the mattress. He wasn’t going to treat Peter like a victim. Peter had made it abundantly clear that he’d consented. The boy’s pupils were dilated as if he’d just done a mess of drugs. Tony didn’t have a bigger kink than being adored by his partner, so watching Peter being awestruck just from being around him was making him throb. He wanted to give the kid something to remember.

“I’m going to suck you off,” Tony said. “Hold still.”

“Ohhhh my God,” Peter groaned. “Please, please!”

Tony smiled, pulling Peter’s boxers down. He got to take it all in. Peter’s leaking dick, his balls so drawn up and tight that it looked painful, and the ass he would be claiming soon. Peter ripped off his shirt, and Tony could appreciate the view of the kid’s abs.

Tony started on Peter’s balls, licking the tight skin as lightly as he could manage just to drive Peter wild.

“N-n-no, please, more.”

“Is this a Tony moment or a Mr. Stark moment?”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. “Don’t make me say it.”

Tony smiled even wider when Peter hid his face. “So you hide your face but leave your dick exposed. What am I to make of that, Mr. Parker?”

“Oh fuck. I can’t, I can’t—”

Tony sucked Peter all the way back, keeping his mouth tight around the boy’s shaft.

Peter squealed, raking his fingers down his own face as he jerked forward into Tony’s mouth. He was done for.

Tony swallowed Peter’s come and watched the boy catch his breath. If Peter was this fucked out from a blowjob, Tony knew he could totally wreck him with a good fucking. That would be a sight for another day.

Tony took out his cock and jerked it quickly, staring at Peter’s own body to get himself off. He picked up the pace when Peter opened his eyes and licked his lips. “Wow, Mr. Stark.”

“Touch yourself,” Tony commanded. “I want you to come again. I know you can do it.”

“Oh my God.” Peter obeyed immediately. His dick was still wet with Tony’s spit. His hand flew over it, uncaring that he was probably going to blow his load quickly again.

Tony watched Peter’s face carefully so he could time it just right.

“Fuck,” Peter breathed. “Yeah, Mr. St-stark. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Tony finally let himself come across Peter’s chest. It made a mess of him, some of it landing on Peter’s own dick, and some of it reaching the boy’s lips.

Peter came harder the second time, biting down on his lip way too hard and then licking away the spattering of come Tony had left on his face. He lied there pathetically for what seemed like a lifetime, covered in his and Tony’s mess.

“That was something,” Tony breathed, tucking himself back into his pants.

“Uh huh,” Peter managed, crawling limply under the covers.

Tony knew Peter’s chest was filthy, so he wiped it away with the discarded shirt. He had a feeling Peter would have no complaints about wearing it now.

“Tony,” Peter mumbled, settling into the place he’d carved out for himself over the past months.

“Hmm?”

“Is it too early to say—never mind,” Peter stopped. “Goodnight.”

Tony kissed his forehead and settled into the mattress. “Definitely not too early, but let’s not have all our firsts in one day.”

“Mmm,” Peter muttered sleepily.

\---

Despite how badly Tony wanted to progress things, he purposely maintained their speed, so that he was absolutely certain Peter was good to go. Instead of escalating to fucking, Tony kept them at elementary stuff like making out, handjobs, and mutual masturbation. Tony let Peter suck him off, although it was a bit one-sided because Tony could get one blowjob an evening at his limit, but Peter was insatiable, so Tony ended up just working him over for hours until he couldn’t come anymore. Peter worried that he wasn’t being fair, but Tony assured him that it was perfectly fine. Peter was getting better at lasting longer, and Tony considered that progress, although he did enjoy watching Peter come in his pants from literally nothing from time to time.

Tony waited until he had actually taken Peter on a few dates and told people about the relationship before doing anything beyond oral sex. He just wanted Peter to feel more secure about everything before they took the next step. It helped him feel more secure too that an angry May wasn’t going to come into his penthouse and murder him. She had been skeptical when Tony and Peter broke the news to her together, but there wasn’t much she could argue with; she had seen firsthand how deep Tony’s love for Peter ran. There was no questioning it.

Every night they spent together, Peter would beg “Tonight, Tony? Will you fuck me tonight?”

Tony always told him, “Not tonight, but soon”.

Eventually the response became, “We’ll see”.

Then finally, much to Peter’s satisfaction, “Yeah, Pete. I’ll fuck you.”

“Are you serious?” Peter practically shredded his clothes in an effort to get them off. “Please tell me you mean it. Oh my God, finally. Thank you. It’s gonna be so good.”

“I know, baby. Been waiting a while,” Tony encouraged. “You’ve been…kind of patient. I guess that’s good for some kind of reward.”

“I’m probably gonna pass out when you finally get inside,” Peter warned. “I’ve been waiting so long. Come on hurry up.”

“Down, boy,” Tony laughed. “I might get the wrong idea about your sensibilities with the way you’re throwing yourself at me.”

“Fuck sensibilities. I want your cock,” Peter challenged.

The kid had become quite cheeky as he grew more comfortable in the relationship.

“When you put it that way,” Tony allowed. He grabbed a bottle of lube from his bedside table and gestured to Peter that he should probably get on the fucking bed.

Peter sprang into action, jumping onto the bed. “How do you want me? Back or front.”

“Lie on your back,” Tony decided. “Knees apart.”

Peter complied, settling into the bed on his back. Tony could tell the boy was trying to keep his mouth shut, and he appreciated the effort. “Don’t hold back on my account.” Tony smiled. “I want to hear you.”

“I’m so excited,” Peter admitted. “I should probably be embarrassed, but I’m just not.”

“Good,” Tony commented. Leaning down to kiss Peter on the lips before he took his place between the boy’s legs.

Tony coated his finger with lube and pressed it against Peter’s rim. He pushed it in after a moment, savouring Peter’s content expression. He knew Peter wasn’t inexperienced, so Tony knew he didn’t have to spend a lot of time prepping and fingering him, but he still wanted to make it last. Tony also knew that Peter probably wasn’t used to being taken care of so much as he was used to just being thrown down and used. Tony liked to fuck like that sometimes, but he would work up to it on Peter’s terms. This time, it was about making it enjoyable for Peter. It was their first time.

“That feels so good,” Peter breathed. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“I know, baby.” Tony rubbed his beard along Peter’s inner calf. “It’s me. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Peter beamed, rolling his head to the side and hiding his smile.

Tony pulled his finger outwards around Peter’s hole gently, coaxing it to loosen just enough. His main purpose was getting the boy relaxed and ready, not stretching him to the point of gaping.

Tony had wondered if he’d have to stroke Peter to keep him hard while he stretched his hole, but of course, Peter was Peter, and his dick was hard the entire time. Tony bet the kid had been born hard he was such a horny little thing. He smiled and kissed Peter’s leg.

“Ugh, enough,” Peter complained. “Please, Tony. Fuck me.”

“You got it,” Tony said, running his finger around Peter’s entrance one last time. He grabbed some more lube and spread it around the length of his dick, jerking himself a few times to make sure he was rock solid. He pressed in smoothly, Peter’s ass opening up to accommodate him like it was made for him.

“God, Pete,” Tony breathed. “You feel like a dream.”

Peter lifted his hips off the bed. “You too.”

Tony hooked Peter’s legs around his waist, and Peter did his part by locking his ankles. Supporting himself on his arms, Tony bottomed out in Peter, and then pulled back once before slamming forward again.

“You can have it as hard as you want it,” Tony grunted in Peter’s ears. “Just let me know.”

“Fuck, harder. Please. As hard as you can,” Peter begged. “I need it.”

Tony obliged, giving it everything he had for a few minutes before the effort of supporting himself and fucking into Peter became too much. He slowed down.

“Let me on top, let me on top.” Peter unhooked his legs and tried to push Tony off him, even though he wasn’t nearly as strong as the man.

Tony rolled onto his back, breathless, and he happily let Peter take the reins for their next position. “You’re so pretty. It’s obscene,” Tony wiped the sweat of his forehead and gripped Peter’s hips tightly.

Peter started bouncing up and down like he was made to ride dick, and if Tony hadn’t known that Peter could blow his load over nothing, he would’ve started jerking him for his efforts. As it was, he was happy to let Peter’s dick bounce untouched. Tony was surprised the kid hadn’t come already.

“Oh my God, Tony. So good, _fuck_,” Peter babbled. He leaned forward to shift his weight, supporting himself with both palms on Tony’s chest. He used the opportunity to rub at the man’s nipples.

Tony moaned, bucking up off the bed to match Peter’s thrusts. The boy had slowed down, losing his energy quickly after bouncing so hard. “Ugh, my thighs are burning. I can’t—”

Tony started pulling Peter down to meet him while he thrust upward, their skin slapping together indecently in the silence of the bedroom.

Peter’s head lolled back as he let himself be handled, and Tony looked up at him in awe. “I can’t believe you’re all mine,” Tony mused. “I’m so fucking lucky.”

Peter groaned, lifting himself off Tony’s cock and falling beside the man. He got onto his hands and knees without prompting. Tony didn’t hesitate to follow suit and get behind the boy.

“I am yours,” Peter said, “Always. Please. I need you inside me.”

Tony pushed into Peter from behind, pausing once his balls rested against Peter’s ass. It was too good. Surely he didn’t deserve this. It had to be a dream.

Tony pulled out of Peter all the way, and then pushed back in. He repeated the movement a few more times until Peter was begging him to stop pulling out.

“Tony,” Peter pleaded.

Tony listened, moving his hands to Peter’s hips before thrusting all the way inside of him and staying there. He never wanted this to end. Peter’s body felt like it was made for him. Tony couldn’t believe he hadn’t given in sooner. “I’m so close, Peter.”

“I want you to come first,” Peter said, his voice muffled by the sheets.

“How sweet,” Tony grunted, tightening his grip on Peter’s body.

“Come inside me,” Peter begged.

Tony thought back to the boy he’d met four years ago. He’d known Peter for so long in just a friendly capacity, and the boy had always been so polite and shy when it came to most things. To hear him beg to be fucked harder and for Tony to come inside him was nothing he had ever expected to experience. Peter’s broken moans and half-muttered pleas were sending him over the top. The boy had stopped bothering to hold himself up and just had his face mashed into the bed with his ass up.

“You’re fucking mine,” Tony growled, pushing Peter deeper into the mattress.

“Yessss,” Peter groaned. “Please.”

“Ohh.” Tony squeezed his eyes shut. _Fuck. _He came inside of Peter, only opening his eyes when his orgasm had finished. He pulled out slowly, eyes locked on Peter’s sloppy, wet hole. He ran his finger around it and slid the leaking come right back into it.

“Holy f—” Peter flipped on his back. “That was so hot.”

Tony agreed. He straddled Peter, pressing his body down against the boy’s dick, trying to give him any friction he could. He licked into Peter’s slack mouth before trailing his kisses down to Peter’s neck, and then to his nipples. Tony took one of them between his teeth and ran his tongue across it eliciting a satisfied groan from Peter. He moved down to the boy’s belly button, and then to his hipbone, and then _finally _he took Peter’s cock into his mouth.

_Poor thing,_ Tony remarked. Peter was genuinely trying to hold out and not come the second he felt Tony’s lips around him, but he was only human. “Unhhhh, Tony.”

“Come for me, baby. I want to taste you.”

Peter couldn’t resist it any longer and he spilled into Tony’s mouth.

Tony was satisfied bone deep. He pulled Peter into his arms and adjusted their position to avoid the wet spot they’d created.

“Another first,” Tony commented, pressing his lips to Peter’s temple.

“I love you, Tony,” Peter sighed, brown eyes staring up at Tony. His eyelids fluttered as he fought off sleep. “A second first.”

Tony suspected that was probably the closest he’d come to flying. Hearing Peter say those words to him was the only thing he ever wanted for the rest of his life. He knew he would work for the rest of his life to keep earning it. He was Peter’s, and Peter was his. Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. Adding closet space to his room to make space for Peter was only the beginning. He was going to give Peter _everything _every day.

“I love you too, Pete,” Tony said, stroking Peter’s hair.

Peter’s face brightened, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “Really?”

“I promise, now go to sleep. Tomorrow we have big plans.”

“Like what?” Peter mumbled.

“Renovations.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my first story for this ship, please leave kudos and a comment if you did, or if you have any thoughts. My tumblr is winterironspiderling, and if you find any grammar/spelling/continuity mistakes please let me know so I can correct them.


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